Stereophonic in the dessert of the Damascus/

Tearing romansa intended to be a calculus/

Shelves to shelves historical syllabus/

Bring me to the zone of my precious//

What’s more relevant to be on the dining plate than our conversations of tomorrow/

that morning-to-morning to be our place hiding the shadow?//

Letters to words, words to paragraphs, paragraphs to a portrait Renaissance family monographs/

I saw a code-to-quote performance of the human biogical naivity, cornering its latent stupidity/

Watering me unbreakable memory/

stories of our orchestral eternality//

There was no terror in the middle you-and-i/

Nor the subtilty of a crawl and lie/

The you-and-i incarnated till the deepest of my flame/

radiate the pain, sorrow and shame//

What’s more relevant to be on the dining plate than our conversations of tomorrow/

that morning-to-morning to be our place hiding the shadow?//

Flower has a dreamy lyrical for me to remember/

The name of you that I unstoppably wanted deeper/

Nothing for the-us to offer/

Than a place for us to go back, and take recover//